Trees blurred by in her peripheral vision, knees weakening with every passing step. She thought she could do this. She'd convinced herself that she could stand by and be the best friend while Maura married Ian.

She'd never been more wrong in her life. It'd eaten away at her, more so every day as the wedding drew closer. She's smiled and faked her way through dress fittings and finding caterers and Maura's constant need to prattle on about something else Ian did spectacularly. The pit of jealousy seemed a permanent fixture in her gut.

Shortly after Maura's announcement, the detective had taken up running regularly. And by regularly, she runs during every spare moment. If she's not on a case, asleep, or helping Maura with something, she and Jo (and sometimes even the dog is too worn out to run with her, like tonight) will take off for hours. It's the only thing that's kept her sane. When she's running, she can tune everything out. It's just her breathing and the pavement; there's no wedding, there's no unrequited love, there's no noose tightening around her neck.

As a result, she's lost a lot of weight that she couldn't really afford to lose. She's almost deathly skinny, but her muscles are primed and her skin tanned from the hours spent outside. No one knows there's anything wrong, but this is one problem even Jane can't outrun.

Her legs burn. She's been out here running for longer than ever before; a true feat of endurance. She started as soon as she'd changed after getting home at seven and now it's close to four. Her heart and lungs ache for different reasons and that's when she realises where she is: Beacon Hill. Even subconsciously, she's drawn to the doctor.

The jealousy and loss are back with a vengeance, vying for position within her slender body. She can feel the tears threaten to appear in her eyes and that's when she knows: she can't do this. She can't stand by and watch Maura tie the knot with that man who waltzes in and out of her life like he owns it, without a thought to the pain he puts her through.

Her legs burn. But they carry her toward that familiar driveway, paying no heed to the fact that her shirt's soaked through and she looks like a wreck.

She is a wreck. She's been a wreck, for the past several months.

There are no lights on, but she knows it doesn't matter. Maura will come to the door for her. Her limbs are quivering from over-exertion even as her hand taps at the door. One by one, dim lights appear through the frosted glass and then Maura's there in front of her, half asleep.

"Jane?" The concern in her voice almost makes her lose it.

"Hi Maur, I just – I need to talk," the words are barely more than a whisper and her eyes refuse to meet the doctor's.

"What's going on? It's four a.m., are you alright?" she can feel Maura's eyes searching her for answers.

"You can't marry Ian," she blurts and feels Maura freeze.

Speak of the devil. "Honey? Are you okay?" the distinctly male voice comes through the gap between the door and the jamb.

Maura doesn't take her eyes of her as she replies, "I'm fine, it's okay." She closes the door behind her softly so now they're both on the front step.

Jane looks everywhere but at Maura. If she looks at Maura, she'll lose her nerve and she has to get this out before it's too late; before she regrets never saying anything for the rest of her life.

"What are you talking about? Why?" Maura's confusion is obvious and for a split second, Jane rethinks her confession. But she's here and it's been killing her slowly and she needs to be able to live with herself in the future.

"Because," Jane says, raspier than ever. She's choking on her emotions, the lump in her throat, the constriction in her chest.

"Because why?" Maura asks and she takes a small step toward Jane.

Jane lifts her head at the small movement, but her eyes meet the hazel of the medical examiner's and she's done, a goner. She leans forward and presses a hesitant kiss to Maura's lips. She gets bolder and presses still more firmly before realising that her best friend is shocked into holding still. She jerks her head away and looks down at the ground again, unsure of how to explain what just happened. Looking up, she tries to find the words, but Maura's just staring at her like she's never seen her before and any words Jane might have said are lost.

It takes her by surprise when she feels a hand on her neck and then those beautiful, luscious lips against hers once more. The kiss is insistent and there are hands in her hair, her own hands on Maura's shirt covered back. They're pulling each other closer and Jane fights hard to ignore the need to breathe. All she can feel is the need and desire that has haunted her for what seems like forever.

And then they pull away at the same time, resting their foreheads together and everything that has just occurred speeds through Jane's mind. Her actions catch up to her and the panic and fear she feels takes over everything.

"Oh God," she says in disbelief. "Oh God, I – I gotta go." It's obvious that she's on the verge of tears; the cadence of her voice changing slightly. She can't look at Maura; she can't take the question she knows will be there in those gorgeous, expressive, God-forsaken eyes. She runs, taking off at a sprint, desperate to put as much distance between herself and her best friend, if she's even that anymore.

Her legs burn. She stumbles up the stairs to her apartment, utterly spent and drained. It's almost six. Jo whines as Jane staggers through the door, following the detective to the bedroom. She should shower, but she can't find the energy. Her bed is more than inviting, so she collapses on top of the covers without bothering to take her shoes off. Jo hops up onto the bed and then lays beside her, trying to help but not quite knowing how.

Reluctantly, she plucks her phone from her pocket, intently ignoring the various missed calls and texts from what's sure to be a pissed off and confused pathologist. She sends the same text to Frost and Korsak, saying she's ill and won't be in. Then she chucks it across the room, lazily. She barely hears the crash before she's drifting off on a tidal wave of exhaustion.